


all safety devices have been disabled

by outranks



Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: Dreams, Dubious Consent, Horror, I Don't Even Know, M/M, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-27
Updated: 2018-09-27
Packaged: 2019-07-18 09:50:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16115933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/outranks/pseuds/outranks
Summary: If Rook can reach Joseph then he knows that he will be safe, but the shadows grow ever darker and the end is so far away.





	all safety devices have been disabled

**Author's Note:**

> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

Six months in to life in the bunker Joseph starts speaking to his siblings. Rook doesn’t think much of it, at first. Joseph is still grieving and, well, whatever helps. But pretty soon it starts to get weird and the grief-fueled monologues turn into actual two-way conversations. A back and forth between Joseph and someone who _isn’t there_. Which Rook has trouble just chalking up to another case of Joseph being Joseph, no matter how hard he tries. 

Rook is halfway through the manual on how to repair the water purifier in case it breaks, and he doesn't trust his own luck to think that it won’t eventually, when Joseph walks into the common area mid argument. His back is stiff and his shoulders are tense and his jaw is clenched so tight Rook’s afraid for his teeth. 

“I didn't _know,_ ” Joseph says to the empty space at his side. 

And that has Rook sitting up and paying attention because their situation only works as long as neither of them lose their minds. Arguing with a ghost is the first step off a ledge with a long drop and Rook’s conquered enough fears to know he cannot survive isolation.

“Uh, hey, Joseph, something wrong?” He puts on his friendliest, most charming demeanor.

Joseph holds that same knife edge posture for another second before it lets go like it was never there. He just looks _tired_. “No, I— I apologise for concerning you.”

Rook is absolutely not qualified to play therapist to Joseph fucking Seed. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Joseph pulls a face like someone who absolutely does not want to talk about it, but apparently decides to anyway. “Had I known I would lose my family, I would have—“

“ _Not_ sent your people on a crusade against the rest of Hope County?”

“Done things differently.” He stares at a spot right behind Rook’s left shoulder that every nerve in Rook’s body is telling him to turn around and check, just in case. But he doesn’t because he’s still holding on to some measure of his own sanity and he knows they’re the only two people living in this bunker.

And what is Rook supposed to say to that anyway. Sorry I killed your brothers and your sister? He still hasn’t worked out if he even is sorry. On the one hand they were very bad people doing very bad things, but on the other hand Joseph was right all along so nothing Rook did even _mattered_. Had he known that, well, he probably would have done things differently too. If only to have other people to talk to while they’re stuck here. “You can’t know everything,” he offers eventually. 

Joseph opens his mouth like he wants to argue, but whatever was going on in his head had drained all the fight out of him and he closes his mouth, teeth clicking together, and nods. 

Rook wants to get back to his repair manual— it was just getting to the good part about which socket wrench to use— but he feels obligated to keep Joseph away from the deep end. So he sighs and says, “Do you want to watch a movie? There’s… it’s not a big collection and I don’t know what you like, but I found a box of old tapes and a VHS player. If you like movies made before 1972 we can probably find something you want to watch.”

Joseph smiles and it’s no longer that fragile brittle thing, but one that’s sturdier and kind. “I would enjoy that,” he says, reaching out to lightly squeeze Rook’s arm. Apparently they're back to touching again, so that’s… maybe not good but it’s better. “Thank you.”

So that’s how they end up sitting together, shoulder to shoulder, on a couch that would allow more room between them if the television weren’t so small, watching a movie like they’re old friends. It’s actually pretty nice, all things considered, and it keeps Joseph from arguing with the madness in his mind. So all in all Rook is going to count it as a win.

*

That night Rook dreams of the bunker.

He walks through the halls toward a voice he knows is Joseph’s, but with every step the path twists and turns in an ever expanding labyrinth. And though he is alone there are shadows in the doorways, the grow in equal measure with the fear that claws at his skin, tearing down his spine. He has to reach Joseph at the end of the maze. There is nothing else that matters. 

When he wakes it’s to Joseph’s familiar weight sprawled over him where they fell asleep on the couch, and the buzz of static coming from the tv. He doesn’t remember the end of the movie.

*

Joseph doesn’t stop talking to his siblings, he just does it where he thinks Rook won’t hear. In some ways that’s better for Rook, but in a lot of ways it’s worse. Because Joseph must understand what he’s doing, if he’s aware enough to try hiding it, and all the means it that the bunker is filled with whispered, half heard conversations. They aren’t living with ghosts, but some days it sounds like they are. 

Rook has read through every book and manual he can find, searched every shelf and every box, in every corner. Dutch prepared for a lot of possibilities, but not this one. There is no protocol for this. And he can’t ignore it either. 

He tries to imagine how a confrontation will go but there’s no outcome he can find that doesn’t lead to one of them bringing up how it was Rook who personally killed the rest of the Seed family. That’s a topic he’s been doing very well at never bringing up so far. Compartmentalising. Not thinking about all the what-ifs and could-have-beens. Avoiding thoughts about all the blood on his own hands or all the lives that could have been saved if he’d just… if he’d—

Rook rolls his shoulders back and knocks on the door to their shared bedroom. “Joseph? Are you—“ what if that last tether to his sanity has snapped. What if one of these days Rook wakes up and Joseph is nothing more than an Angel? “Shit,” he says, “I’m coming in.”

Whatever Rook expects to find, there is nothing out of the ordinary in the bedroom. Only Joseph, sitting in the middle of his bed with a notebook open in his lap and a pencil in his hand. There’s a sketch on the page that bares an almost perfect resemblance to John Seed. He can’t help but to stare as he gets closer. “Wow,” he says. Every line, every hair, all of John’s face in black and white, gazing out from the page, happier than Rook had ever seen him in life. “I didn’t know you could draw. That’s amazing.”

“Thank you.” Joseph gently closes the notebook, setting it aside, and making a space for Rook to sit down beside him. “Is there something you want?”

“Yeah.” Rook hates this. “You’ve been… spending more time alone,” he starts like that’s the problem. He’d gladly have Joseph spend more time away from him, in whatever corner he wants to tuck away into, if it didn’t come with the caveat of talking to imagined ghosts. “I can hear you sometimes. Talking to your siblings. Not at them, with them. I need to know what’s going on so I can help you.”

“Am I not allowed to grieve?”

“Of course you are,” Rook says. If that’s all it is he’ll gladly fuck off, but he knows it’s not. If there is one thing he’s learned since being brought to the bunker it’s Joseph. “But I don’t think that’s what this is. At least not all of it. And why start now instead of months ago?”

Joseph does that thing again where he stares right over Rook’s shoulder like he’s looking at someone else. “They weren’t listening before.”

Fuck, Rook thinks. “Fuck,” he says standing up, too many nerves and too much energy to stay seated, running a hand through his hair. He can’t deal with this. He doesn’t know how. “What does that even mean?”

“You won’t understand,” Joseph says. “You’re not ready.”

Rook doesn’t slam the door behind him when he leaves the room because he’s not an asshole, but he fucking wants to. 

*

He dreams of the bunker again.

The hallway stretches out impossibly far ahead of him as the lights behind him go out one by one. The shadows creep along the edge of his vision, grabbing at his arms and legs if he gets too close, trying to drag him in. He can still hear Joseph in the distance, his voice a soft melody that draws Rook to him. If he can reach Joseph then he knows that he will be safe, but the shadows grow ever darker and the end is so far away.

He wakes to an empty room and for a moment Rook thinks he’s still dreaming but he can hear the water running in the bathroom and underneath it he can hear Joseph singing a familiar tune.

*

One of the lights has gone out in the kitchen. It takes Rook almost an hour to hunt down a replacement because while Dutch had a system in place it’s not one that he taught to Rook. Maybe he would have if he had ever had the chance. But he didn’t so Rook has to search through unlabeled boxes filled with even more boxes until he can find the one with the specific type of bulb that he needs. 

It turns out it’s not the bulb that’s the problem, it’s the wiring. At least he knows where to find a book for that.

Rook stands on a ladder with a thin booklet on electrical troubleshooting clenched between his teeth and a flashlight in one hand so he can see what he’s doing while he pokes at things he doesn’t entirely understand. His biggest concern is being electrocuted. His second biggest concern is screwing up the wiring causing all the lights to go out. Maybe he should ask Joseph about this.

As if reading his mind Joseph walks in to the kitchen and Rook feels a gentle press against his back. He turns, intent on reminding him about personal space, but Joseph is still stood in the doorway, just watching him.

“Is there a problem?” Joseph asks.

Rook spits the booklet into his hand so he can answer. “The light stopped working,” he says, waving the flashlight up at the empty light socket that he’s been poking at in hopes that eventually he’ll figure this out.

Joseph frowns like he’s confused, like Rook isn’t standing in the darkest part of the room. “Has it?”

“ _Yes._ ” Rook doesn’t understand whatever game Joseph is playing and is too tired to find out. He just wants the bunker to keep running like it’s supposed to since they’re in this for the long haul and is that too much to ask? “Notice how it’s darker over here.” He points the flashlight back at the light socket, then at Joseph, and back up again in hopes of getting this very obvious problem across. “I think it’s the wiring.”

Joseph shrugs and pushes off from the doorframe. “I was going to make something to eat. Will you join me?”

Apparently the thing with the light is only a problem to Rook, personally. “Sure,” he says, coming down off the ladder. They’ll just have a dark spot in the room for now, that’s fine. Why fix things that are broken when ignoring then is easier. Later, Rook will pick over the booklet with a fine tooth comb until he actually understands what have to be very basic instructions on light repairs.

Joseph smiles and holds out a hand for Rook to take, which he does because it makes Joseph happy and why fight the little things. They have to live together, may as well make the effort to get along.

And maybe if Joseph is happy he’ll have fewer reasons to talk to the dead. Or at least stop acting like they answer. 

“So, what’s on the menu?”

“Anything you want,” Joseph answers as if they have anything besides canned or dehydrated food. Rook really could go for anything else after six months of the same thing day after day. 

One of the lights flickers overhead.

*

In his dreams the bunker twists and turns, awake and aware.

The shadows reach for him, grabbing hands that try bring him into the dark. It whispers to him, urging him on, telling him to run, keep going forward. Yes, it whispers to him, a gentle caress of a lover. Yes. It grows ever darker, stretching and consuming everything else until he is all that is left except for the endless hallway and Joseph, somewhere, somewhere… he is waiting for him.

Rook wakes to Joseph’s steady heartbeat against his ear and the cool air of the bunker against his naked back. He remembers pulling Joseph into bed, but he doesn’t remember what had made him want to.

*

Another light has gone out and some of the rooms appear darker than they had been only days earlier. When he asks Joseph about it he says that he hasn’t noticed anything which is no help at all. The book on electrical repairs is missing too, and Joseph says he hasn’t seen it either. He suggest that Rook may have misplaced it and maybe he’s right. Rook has been so tired lately, though he thinks he’s been sleeping longer.

He gives up on fixing the lights, there’s nothing he can do about it without instructions unless he wants to mess around with things he doesn’t understand. That’s something he’s done before, was almost the entirety of his time as junior deputy, and he’d rather not do it again.

Joseph is perched on the back of the sofa, watching the fish, when Rook finds him. His eyes don’t leave the fish tank, but there’s a subtle shift of his body, and invitation to join that Rook takes with only a moment of hesitation.

Should they talk about the sex thing? They should probably talk about the sex thing. He isn’t sure if he should set some ground rules, or discuss what their relationship is now that sex has been added to the mix, or maybe insist that it never happens again. It feels inevitable that it will happen again. Especially with only the two of them trapped in here for years. And Rook really does like the idea actually having a sex life, even if he’s not entirely convinced it’s a good idea to have one with Joseph Seed. 

That still means they’ll have to talk about it. “So, last night—“

“You gave yourself to me and I accepted,” Joseph says.

Rook had grabbed and pulled and pleaded and Joseph had taken everything until Rook had nothing more to give. “That’s good, right? It’s not against one of your rules?”

“No,” Joseph says, humor lacing his voice. “You are my family, I have made you mine.”

Which is something Rook is definitely going to argue about, but Joseph reaches under his shirt and scratches his nails down his spine, just a barely there touch that has Rook sinking into his side. This is nice. He can argue later.

They sit together, watching the the fish swim around in the tank, all dark scales, sharp edges, and too many angles. “Is something wrong with the fish?” He isn’t sure if they’ve always looked like that or if he hasn’t been paying attention.

“They are as they’re supposed to be,” Joseph says. 

The glow from the tank is the only point of light in the dark room.

*

His legs are growing heavy and there is still so far to go. The walls crumple in and bend out in awkward, broken angles and the hall twists impossibly sharp. His lungs burn when he breathes, the shadows wanting in, in, in. They whisper promises that drag under his skin, giving him the strength to push forward. He has to reach Joseph, there is nothing else that matters.

Rook wakes to the gentle pressure of Joseph’s mouth around his cock.

*

More of the lights have gone out and some of the rooms are entirely black. A soft welcoming darkness that Rook wants to touch. He thinks it should feel like velvet against his skin, but the only thing there is the cold. Joseph doesn’t seem to mind the dark and Rook takes to following him around the bunker when he can’t figure out what else to do. Joseph is always warm and inviting. 

*

The shadows don’t want to hurt him, he knows that now. He lets them in, lets them embrace him, and in return they guide him through the bunker. 

*

Only a few lights remain and they have grown so dim and soon they will go out. Rook can’t remember the last time he left their bed or the last time he ate, but Joseph takes care of him and maybe that’s all he needs. Just Joseph and the voices in the dark. 

“You have to listen,” Joseph says, and his breath is warm on his skin where the air is so, so cold. He thinks that Joseph is the only thing that keeps him from freezing. “ _Listen._ ”

Rook is spread out on the bed with Joseph as his only anchor point. He tries to listen, tries to understand, but Joseph pushes into him and his thoughts tumble from his grasp. He thinks they’ve fallen into the dark along with everything else. That’s where it’s safe. Where all the protected important things are hidden away. “I can’t, I can’t—“

“You _will. _” Joseph’s voice is a honeyed demand that Rook strains to comply.__

__He closes his eyes and reaches out to the waiting, eager dark. At first he only hears his breathing, his heartbeat, the wet soft sounds of his body as Joseph fucks into him. But the voices, the shadows, grow louder when he seeks them out. They press against every part of him until he has to drag Joseph down to him and give himself over completely._ _

__Joseph’s smile is radiant victory and _love._ “I knew that you would be perfect.”_ _

__*_ _

__Rook wakes to John’s laughter and Faith’s pulling hands, leading him out of bed._ _

__“Come on,” she says, “Joseph is waiting.”_ _

__Jacob’s voice is exactly as he remembers. “Was wondering when he would be ready.”_ _

__“He’s always been… stubborn,” John says, closer than Rook had thought._ _

__They lead him to Joseph who is waiting for them all. There are no lights left in the bunker, but he can still see Joseph, even in the dark, and that is all that matters._ _


End file.
